After finishing Chinese and math that morning, Chen Zhu felt he had done fairly well. Chinese in particular might turn out to be a real stunner, barring any surprises.
The first exam that afternoon was physics.
Unlike math, which had left some students happy and others worried, physics brought almost universal cries of despair once the papers were handed in. Even Chen Zhu thought this paper was very difficult.
But it really was meant to match the difficulty of the Gaokao. If he remembered correctly, the physics exam in Eastern Guangdong's 2007 Gaokao had been hell mode.
Unfortunately, after all these years, Chen Zhu no longer remembered any of the questions, and there was no way to look them up online. Otherwise, with some targeted revision, he might even have claimed the top score in the province.
As expected, Wang Changhua came over to compare answers again.
After checking a few questions, Wang Changhua grew less and less confident. He hammered his head with his fist and swore, "Fuck! I don't know what was wrong with me, but songs kept playing in my head while I was doing the physics paper. I knew I was going to bomb it!"
Chen Zhu almost laughed out loud. That happened to him too-music would start playing in his head all on its own during exams.
And the harder he tried to make it stop, the more cheerfully it played.
Other classmates besides Wang Changhua also came to compare answers with Chen Zhu. This time, even the academic gods from the first exam room dropped their airs, bringing their scratch paper over to discuss the physics questions with him.
Their homeroom teacher, Yin Yanqiu, often stressed that they should "put each exam behind you once it's over," but could anyone really expect a bunch of high school students to keep their anxiety under control?
Surrounded by everyone, Chen Zhu looked like a candied hawthorn vendor with a crowd of children waiting for their treats.
Just then, a figure appeared in the corner of his eye, tall and slender, with a cool, reserved face.
Song Shiwei.
She walked out of the first exam room next door, perhaps hoping to get some fresh air before the next subject, English.
Song Shiwei probably had no friends in the first exam room. Or perhaps, given her personality, she had very few friends at school at all. She stood alone in the corridor, gazing into the distance, though he couldn't tell where her eyes rested.
A draft swept through the corridor, blowing the strands at her temples tight against her cheeks.
Song Shiwei raised her delicate fingers to smooth them back, but no sooner had she tidied one side than the wind sent the other fluttering again. Her hair drifted about like willow fluff, yet there was a beauty to its disarray.
Perhaps it was simply because she was pretty.
The boys who had been noisily crowding around Chen Zhu suddenly fell quiet in unspoken agreement. Every one of them turned into a gentle gentleman, even lowering his voice.
No matter how old they are, men always instinctively put on a bit of an act when they see a beautiful woman.
Chen Zhu chuckled inwardly.
Nor did he blush and fumble at the sight of a female classmate as he once had. Instead, he nodded to Song Shiwei with easy composure.
Song Shiwei paused, probably not expecting Chen Zhu to greet her first. But then she remembered that he had offended Li Jianming on her behalf yesterday, and she returned a slight nod.
Her eyes were clear and bright, like translucent crystal cups. For the brief instant their gazes met, Chen Zhu lost himself.
The second exam that afternoon was English.
This was one of Chen Zhu's weak subjects. What he didn't know, he still didn't know. For questions he truly couldn't understand, he simply relied on his feel for the language and picked whichever answer looked best.
As with the Chinese exam, once they handed in their papers, the students barely discussed the questions beyond a few complaints about the unclear listening audio.
After all, unlike the simple, straightforward answers in math and physics, they couldn't exactly recite their entire English essays.
Only chemistry remained for tomorrow. Since it was the final subject, everyone's spirits finally lifted a little, regardless of how well that day's exams had gone.
During evening self-study, occasional whispered conversations mingled with the chemical formulas for sulfur dioxide and iron(II,III) oxide.
No teachers came to supervise evening self-study. They all had to stay up marking papers that night, hoping to release the results on Monday, or even tomorrow evening.
The final exam, chemistry, took place the next morning.
Unlike physics and math, this subject required not only understanding and calculation skills but also a certain amount of memorized knowledge.
That meant that even if they couldn't solve the last few complex, long-answer questions, they could still pick up some basic points as long as they had spent enough time reading their textbooks.
So among the top students, chemistry generally didn't produce much of a score gap. Almost all of them could score above 120.
After handing in their papers, they had half a day off, though they still had to return to school that evening for self-study. When Chen Zhu went home for lunch, he finally saw his dad, Chen Peisong.
"Well, look who's home! Our future college student!"
As soon as Chen Zhu stepped through the door, his father rose from the sofa, where he had been reading the newspaper, with a broad smile.
Chen Peisong was forty-three that year and served as deputy director of a local subdistrict office.
It was far from an easy job. Almost anything within his jurisdiction could eventually end up on his desk, leaving him with a busy, motley workload and plenty of work-related social engagements.
His round belly looked as though it had a swim ring wrapped around it. The upright figure of his youth was long gone.
Of course, dealing with all manner of complicated affairs at the grassroots level every day had also honed Director Chen's wisdom and foresight.
During Chen Zhu's temporary assignment in poverty alleviation, he would call his father for advice whenever he faced a thorny problem.
"Dad."
Seeing his father for the first time since his rebirth, Chen Zhu was actually deeply moved. He didn't show it, though. He greeted him as casually as usual, then sat on the sofa and turned on the television.
Father and son had completely different personalities. Chen Zhu was quiet and reserved, while his father was witty and entertaining.
After looking his son over a few times, Chen Peisong suddenly let out a puzzled "Huh?" Then he went into the kitchen and said to his wife, Mao Xiaoqin, "It's only been two or three days since I last saw him. How come Chen Zhu seems like a different person?"
Mao Xiaoqin, who was stir-frying, was confused at first, then realized what he meant. "Our son got a haircut. It threw me off at first too, but the more I looked at it, the better it seemed. He's more handsome than before."
"Really?"
Chen Peisong felt that the change wasn't entirely down to his appearance, but he couldn't quite explain why.
After all, Director Chen had spent years working at the grassroots level and had seen all kinds of people and situations. He could sense at least some of the difference in Chen Zhu.
But this was unquestionably his son, so in the end, he could only chalk it up to the haircut.
"How did a haircut make my son look... so young and so old at the same time?"
His father muttered this to himself.
Over lunch, the family of three chatted about everyday matters for a while. Seeing that Chen Zhu, though still not very talkative, spoke clearly and coherently, Chen Peisong finally relaxed.
His greatest concern was that something had happened to Chen Zhu at school and that, given his son's withdrawn nature, he didn't want to tell his parents.
In a household with a student in his final year of high school, no matter where a casual conversation wandered, it always returned to studying. Mao Xiaoqin placed a piece of chicken drumstick in Chen Zhu's bowl and asked with a hint of anticipation, "The First Mock Exam is finally over. How do you think you did, Chen Zhu?"
"Hey!"
Chen Peisong waved a hand, cutting off his wife's question. "The exams are already over. Why keep asking about them?"
Mao Xiaoqin glared at her husband. "I get nervous if I don't ask! I can't be like certain people who get so busy they forget all about their family. It's only because our son does us proud and never gives us anything to worry about that I haven't made a fuss with you!"
Chen Peisong knew he had let his family down in some ways. His wife's efforts had kept everything going all these years, so whenever Mao Xiaoqin frowned, he would chuckle placatingly and wait patiently for her anger to subside.
This was how his father and Ms. Mao got along in their daily lives, and it would remain that way for many years to come.
Seeing how devoted his parents were to each other put Chen Zhu in a good mood too. Still, he played it safe and said, "Probably about the same as usual."
Hearing that, Mao Xiaoqin exchanged a glance with her husband, and both of them relaxed.
About the same as usual meant somewhere between 610 and 620. Judging by previous years' admission cutoffs, getting into South China University of Technology shouldn't be a problem.
"South China University of Technology is over by Yueken Road. Getting there from home would take two bus transfers..."
Mao Xiaoqin was already planning the bus route she would take to visit Chen Zhu once he started university.
After lunch, Chen Zhu took a nap at home, then met up with Huang Bohan to return to school for evening self-study.
Big Huang was much quieter than usual, clearly worried about his exam results. Once again, no teachers came to sit in on evening self-study that day. Not even anyone making rounds.
They were either marking papers or, having finished marking them, calculating the rankings. At this point, even the top students in the advanced class were too distracted to focus on their books.
Whenever the click-clack of high heels rang out in the empty corridor, everyone would nervously look up, thinking their homeroom teacher, Yin Yanqiu, had come to hand out the papers.
If it turned out not to be their homeroom teacher, their faces would visibly relax.
They stayed on tenterhooks until the second evening self-study period, when the click-clack of low heels sounded again. Everyone instinctively looked up once more.
A gray blazer and thick, gold-rimmed glasses-this time, it really was their homeroom teacher, Yin Yanqiu!
And she was carrying several thick stacks of exam papers!
Were the results really coming out tonight?
Sharp intakes of breath rippled through the classroom.
(Chen Zhu asks for your votes and continued reading support. Thank you!)
(End of chapter)
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